


Surrender to your charity

by Solovei



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Capable/Nux is mentioned briefly, Developing Relationship, Except more like Tired/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, POV Toast the Knowing, Sleepy Cuddles, a triptych of sorts, but they're trying, especially when you're both very broken people who've been through a lot, intimacy is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 08:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14077218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solovei/pseuds/Solovei
Summary: Toast knew about cars and guns; people weren’t her strong suit.





	Surrender to your charity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lextenou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lextenou/gifts).



> Title stolen from the song "Held" by Smog

Dull orange light filtered through the glass dome of the Vault, and Toast thought it looked tired. She was tired too; not the kind of tired after a lifetime of holding yourself ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice, but the kind of tired after spending a long time doing something useful and valuable. She remembered this second kind, from when she was smaller; it was good to feel it again. 

She’d spent half of the day fighting with an engine and the other half hissing at every blackthumb War Boy who came even close to telling her what she needed to do. Eventually even the pups didn’t want to come near her, but she could see them out of the corner of her eye, whispering and pointing until someone came along shooing them away. 

She thought she could hear voices behind the bubbling of the brook; Capable reading to her War Boy up on the mezzanine, like as not; they were always up there. She kept saying he would get better, but Toast knew a broken machine when she saw it. Still, she wasn’t going to take that away from her. Everyone needed something to hope for. 

Footsteps coming down the corridor, and this new sound was unmistakable - she’d know that gait anywhere. She looked away for a second just before Furiosa walked in, hiding the smile on her face, then kicking herself for playing coy. What did they have to hide from each other, in here? What did they have left to hide after they travelled the Fury Road and lived to tell the tale? Toast tilted her head back lazily as Furiosa’s hand drifted past, brushing her hair with intention. She smelled of guzzoline and dust. 

Furiosa knelt by the brook and splashed water on her face, slowly, closing her eyes for a brief second. With practiced movements, she reached for the buckles holding her prosthetic in place and began undoing them methodically. 

“Need help?” Toast asked, though she knew what the answer would be. Furiosa only gave her a look, the same look she always gave her, and Toast smirked. She felt safe in that look. It was a familiar thing in a world that held so few of those. 

\---

She could feel the taut muscles of Furiosa’s stomach under her head rise and fall with every breath, and everything was quiet. They called her Toast the Knowing, but right now all she knew was the feeling of fingers idly running through her hair, and it was good. 

“How’s the shop?” Furiosa asked, barely a whisper. Toast opened her eyes, looking at the dome again as if roused from sleep. She wondered who was more tired, them or the light. During the middle of the day, even if she closed her eyes, she could still see the burning glow like fire imprinting itself on the inside of her eyelids. But not now. 

“Good. We can put a couple more rigs together with the scrap we recovered from the mountains,” she said, her voice even, as if she didn’t have the energy to be derisive. _Including the scrap currently sleeping upstairs_ , she thought but did not say. 

Furiosa made a quiet hum of agreement, and Toast took that as an indication that she could continue. “Of course they all keep meddling, so I have to wrangle the War Boys as well as the rigs. It’s too late for some of them, but Cheedo thinks that… the pups at least will be able to…” her voice trailed off. Toast knew about cars and guns; people weren’t her strong suit. 

“You’re going to do fine.” Furiosa said after what felt like such a long time that Toast had almost drifted off and thought she had dreamt it. If it was a dream, she thought, it was a good one. Capable had told her about dreams - she read about them in her books, they were like shows in your head when you slept. Anything could happen in a dream; Toast had never had one, but they sounded nice. 

The light beyond the dome was fading, and soon the night chill would settle over the wasteland. She sat up languidly, “It’s getting late… I’ll fetch a blanket.” 

But Furiosa grasped her hand before Toast could get up; dry, rough fingers against her own. “Stay… stay here?” Her blue eyes looking back were the warmest thing in this room. 

\---

They were both... missing something. She had realized as much, watching _those two_ always cooing at each other up in the mezzanine. It didn’t mean she cared for her any less, but Toast didn’t know how to give and Furiosa didn’t know how to ask.

They tried, of course, when their good days aligned, when nobody was around, when the light was right. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Sometimes it was a charge humming through her body like a wire and sometimes it was cold steel piercing her veins. 

Toast smiled softly and lay back down, this time stretching out alongside Furiosa, head resting on her chest, arms looped around her waist, one knee casually hooked behind hers. She could hear a heartbeat, and knew it belonged to someone else. She knew this, and it was good too. 

“I’m taking a few of the bikes out tomorrow.” Furiosa said. Toast could feel the woman’s fingers trace out the contours of her spine, just where her top ended and her skin began. 

“Gastown?”

“West. We found maps, might be some settlements out that way.”

She felt something inside her tighten suddenly. Furiosa must have felt it too, because she lay her hand on the back of Toast’s head like always, pressed her lips carefully to her forehead. “I’m coming back,” she whispered, her voice soft but steeled.

“You always do.”

“While I’m gone, you keep things going here. Send out patrols if you can. Just recon, no guns.”

Toast nodded. She reached a hand up and let it rest on Furiosa’s cheek, noting that the amount of time it took for her to lean into her touch had lessened. She pulled herself up, leaning up on her elbows, leaning close until their breaths were one breath and all she could see were those blue eyes looking back at her with nothing in them but trust and permission. She moved closer, and tasted water and sweat, tasted seven thousand days and mother’s milk and guzzoline. 

The last of the light had faded, giving way to the blue-black of night. 

There were many things still that Toast did not know. 

But she was sure in the hope that she will know them soon enough.


End file.
